


Getting Shot Is a Serious Business

by samcaarter



Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: F/M, Hurt/Comfort, and lots of feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-27
Updated: 2020-12-27
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:40:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28364802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/samcaarter/pseuds/samcaarter
Summary: S4 AU set between 4.03 and 4.04, during the time they're not talking.Chloe gets shot and ends up in the hospital. Lucifer doesn't take it very well.
Relationships: Chloe Decker/Lucifer Morningstar
Comments: 19
Kudos: 165





	Getting Shot Is a Serious Business

**Author's Note:**

> Basically me writing my own prompt, it was too deliciously angsty. Originally posted on tumblr, cross posting here for posterity.

This was supposed to be easy, she thinks as the ground shifts beneath her feet.

Her left shoulder is screaming at her, and time seems to slow down to a crawl, but her thoughts race hundreds of miles per agonizing second, defying all laws of physics.

Her life doesn't flash before her eyes, but rather it's the possible futures she won't get to have. Her daughter growing up without her. Slow Sunday mornings and game nights. Spending time with her best friends. Helping bring bad people to justice. Her chance at happiness with the man she loves, but no, she blew that.

She hears Dan shouting something, the gunshots, before she hits the ground hard, the wind knocked out of her.

The strange feeling of deja vu settles over her, it's funny how the name of the asshole who shot her is James. She knows she wouldn't have survived Jimmy Barnes if it hadn't been for... But he's not here now. A symmetry, she thinks.

The last thing Chloe sees is Dan's face, his lips moving but no sound reaching her ears, before everything goes black.

* * *

Her whole body feels leaden, like there's a weight pressing her down into the bed. She tries moving her fingers, it takes more than one try before the signals from her fingertips reach her brain; soft-ish cotton. Her head pounds and she risks opening her eyes.

She's in a hospital room, alive, even if she doesn't feel like it at the moment. A second second chance. Or whatever, she's stopped counting, and still she takes some things for granted. Stupid human brain, she supposes.

Canting her head slightly, Chloe feels her heart skip a beat, surely she must be dreaming. Or in Heaven, but no, he's not allowed in.

Lucifer sits by her side, crammed into an uncomfortable hospital chair, his folded forearms rest on her bed, his head lying on them, fast asleep.

She looks him over, noting every small detail, hurting even more. His hair is tousled, as if he kept running his hands through it; the curls making a subtle appearance on the top and temples. His suit jacket is slung over the back of the chair, and his shirt is wrinkled enough to say he’s had a long day.

The desire to touch him is like a living thing inside her, still she holds herself back, unwilling to wake him up. Terrified that he'd leave immediately.

"You’re here," she whispers, but the words catch in her throat, which feels like sandpaper, and she coughs, startling him back into the world of the living.

His eyes are bleary and it takes him a moment to focus on her before he bolts upright. The cold panic settles deep in her belly, but instead of heading for the door, Lucifer reaches for something on her left, a glass of water with a straw, and helps her drink.

“Thank you,” she says when she’s done, able to swallow more smoothly now. She only receives a curt nod in response as he makes a move to step away from the bed. With a herculean effort, she lifts her arm and grabs his wrist. “Lucifer, wait, please.”

He freezes mid motion.

There are so many things she wants to tell him, _I’m sorry_. _I miss you_. _Please don’t go_. _What I did was stupid, please, let’s talk again_. _I_ miss _you like crazy_. But the words don’t come as she stares into his brown eyes, feeling much like a deer caught in the headlights. “Why are you here?” she asks instead, possibly the worst question ever.

“Your daughter called me,” he says quietly, his face a perfect mask, betraying no emotions.

“Oh, my... Trixie,”-she gasps-”where is she?”

“At home. Asleep, with any luck.” Lucifer angles his head towards the window behind him, at the slowly brightening sky. “It’s around five in the morning. She wants you to call when you wake up, but I don’t think it’s wise to do so right now.”

“No, you’re right.” It must have been around fifteen hours since she got shot. “You haven’t answered my question, though. Why are you here after-” her voice gives up on her and she coughs to clear her throat. “After what I’ve done, after what I’ve said, after… everything?”

His look pins her to the bed, even if she could move freely, she doubts she would be able now. It’s the kind of look he reserves for the criminals they catch, sometimes for their coworkers when someone’s being particularly dense, but almost never for her. With nothing resembling grace, he plops down onto the chair, keeping his eyes on hers. She has a fleeting thought that it takes all his strength not to let the red color his irises.

“Is that what you think of me, Detective?” The words are laced with anger and she flinches. “You got shot, your heart actually _stopped_ on the way here. Your daughter called me, sobbing her eyes out, because you almost died,”-the words spill from his mouth like a torrent, almost to the point of blending together, and Chloe finds she doesn’t dare to breath-”and you think that I wouldn’t _care_?”

Tears blur her vision, but she feels his hand twist in hers until he’s grasping her fingers, tight enough to hurt. Something else tightens its grip around her heart.

“Do you really think that your little holy crusade would change the way I fe-” his voice jumps on the last words, but he stops himself, snapping his mouth shut. Looking away, he visibly composes himself, loosening his grip on her hand. “Detective,” he tries again. “I don’t care how you feel about me. I don’t care if you’re scared and can never accept me for who I truly am. But if you die, you’ll go somewhere I can never follow you. I’ll never be able to see you _ever_ again.” Her own fingers tighten around his, it’s probably a barely there sensation given how weak she is, but it makes him turn his head to look at her. “So, just, please don’t die, okay?”

A sob wrestles free from inside Chloe’s chest, she sees his eyes widen in surprise and maybe fear. “I’m sorry,” she says. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” Close calls tend to put things into perspective, and this one was like being hit with a jackhammer. All her worries seem so stupid and insubstantial now. All that matters is that he’s here, her hand in his, his thumb gently moving across her knuckles.

“Detective-”

“I don’t care. About your face. I only care that I miss you,” she says hurriedly, wanting to get the words out. The effect it has on him is almost unbelievable, he stares at her, as if barely daring to hope and it all shows on his face. She takes a deep breath. “I’ve realized something while we were apart. All those years, you maybe weren’t telling me the whole truth about what you are.” He opens his mouth, but she shakes her head silencing him. “But you weren’t lying about who you are, Lucifer. And you’re a good man. I’m sorry I got lost there for a while.”

He doesn’t try to contradict her, it’s a testament to how much her getting shot frightened him. Shifting a little in his seat, Lucifer cradles her hand in between both of his. “I... may have complicated things as well.”

“Is this the closest thing to an _I’m sorry, too_ that I’m gonna get?” she gently teases him.

Expression turning serious, he nods, his eyes glinting suspiciously. “I am sorry.”

The knot inside her chest finally loosens. “Are we good? Can we try this again?” she doesn’t get to finish the sentence, a huge yawn interrupts her and Lucifer chuckles. 

“Getting bored with me already, Detective?”

She glares and he smiles, small and tentative, but sure. It serves to remind her just how much she’s missed it, missed him smiling at her.

“Why, a glare and an almost eye roll. It would seem we are back to normal,” he says, mirth coloring his voice. And then much gentler, “You need to rest. Getting shot is a serious business.”

Chloe nods, suddenly all too aware of how heavy her eyelids are. “Will you be here in the morning?”

He pauses, just looking at her. “Undomesticated equines could not remove me.”

She smiles and closes her eyes, feeling him press a kiss to the back of her hand. Knowing in her heart that they’re going to be okay.

**Author's Note:**

> Lucifer says the title of this fic, very on brand 😂 
> 
> If you spotted 🔍 a Stargate reference, get yourself a cookie 🍪


End file.
